Icarus
by SourBlueFreezy
Summary: For Matthew, he believes this, whatever this is, began when his dreams did. He's wrong. It began long before that. And although he can't remember his previous life, that doesn't mean others will as well. AmeCan
1. Chapter 1

Hello! SourBlueFreezy here! So this is my first story! Exciting stuff, right?

Anyway, if you encounter any errors please send me a message so I can correct them! And constructive criticism and any other type of feedback is always appreciated!

Also, I really need to stop switching to past and present tense mid paragraph (if you could call them that).

WRITING IS HARD.

* * *

"_She died-this was the way she died;__  
__And when her breath was done,__  
__Took up her simple wardrobe__  
__And started for the sun.__  
__Her little figure at the gate__  
__The angels must have spied,__  
__Since I could never find her__  
__Upon the mortal side."_

_― Emily Dickinson_

Icarus

Chapter 1:

A Little Bird Safe In The Nest

Matthew Williams awoke not with a flail of arms and white sheets, but with violet eyes flashing open, the palpitations of his heart thrumming in his throat, and his body rigid with fright.

As the last fragments of the nightmare faded into static, to be kept in the back of his mind, a sense of warm relief flooded his bones, relaxing the tight band of terror that had constricted around his chest.

Wiping sweat of his brow with a hand shaking in a fine tremor, a sigh left Matthew's lungs in a trembling gust.

Looking at the alarm clock on his bedside table with bleary eyes, it took time before the numbers resolved into intelligible digits instead of swimming and fusing together in a kaleidoscope of red L.E.D. lights and black plastic.

The numbers gleamed brightly when they solidified into a recognizable time of day.

Or should he say early morning?

"God damn it…"

4:26 AM beamed happily at him in a wholly annoying and condescending way.

Matthew felt his eyelids narrow into irritated slits, convinced if he glared hard enough at the seemingly innocuous device it would melt into slag or burst into flames.

Needless to say, neither the former nor the latter happened.

'_Why…? Could I at least wake up from a night terror at a decent time?_' Matthew thought, not with a little bit of self-depreciation.

Rolling over onto his back and letting out a groan that echoed around the room, Matthew swung his legs out of bed, grabbed his glasses from beside the accursed alarm clock, placed them on his face, then heaved himself out his bedroom.

Letting out a yelped curse as he stubbed his toe on the doorframe, hopping on one foot for a few moments, The blond entered what could be called the 'living room' of his apartment, the size of a cubicle, an old beige couch with a large stain in middle of one of the cushions (coming from when he had fallen asleep with a cup of coffee in his hand, at least it was cold by then), and a T.V. placed on top of what should have been used as a dresser.

Heading to the small kitchenette tucked into the corner of the flat, he yanked open the fridge with a stiff tug, wincing at the shriek coming from the hinges of the old appliance, the door opening with much resistance.

'_I _really _need to buy a new fridge…_' Matthew thought with a grimace, grabbing a carton of orange juice and giving it a few brisk shakes before raising it to his lips. Placing the carton back on the shelf and closing the fridge with a squealing slam, Matthew proceeded to walk back to his room in a somewhat more awake fashion.

Flopping onto his bed with a loud exhale, burrowing his face into the duvet for a few seconds, Matt twisted his head to look towards his desk and raked a hand through sleep mussed blond hair.

'_Might as well get dressed… Probably won't be getting back to sleep after that…_'

Quickly shedding his plaid pajama bottoms, Matthew donned everyone's least favorite outfit, the 'I Don't Care About Finding A Mate' outfit, consisting of the loosest, most unflattering, and, consequently, the most comfortable jeans he could find and a ratty old t-shirt.

Walking over to his compact corner desk on which rested a laptop and cell phone, he picked up the phone, scrolling through contacts until he came to an appropriate name. Or, at least, someone who wouldn't _completely _mind at being woken up at this hour.

Im Yong Soo and Matthew had been friends ever since grade two. Yong Soo had moved from Korea and Matthew had been that one quiet child who was too introverted than the others to make many friends. They were complete opposites in terms of personality, but had the similarity of the fact that they were mostly the odd ones out.

The introduction between the two was… unsubtle to say the least. Having a person shout "I'M IM YONG SOO, NICE TO MEET YOU, DA ZE" at your bewildered face in broken English with a proud grin is one way to say hello, so, for similarities and differences, they stuck together, friends ever since.

Sitting down on the wheeled desk chair by the computer, Matthew proceeded to click rapidly on the phone's keyboard, sending a quick message.

_ You awake?_

He waited a minute, then two, before a chime from his phone sounded.

_ I am now. God damn it Matt that was a stupid question, do you have any idea what time it is?_

_ Yes, I do._

_ Then what has you up at this ungodly hour?_

_ What do you think._

It wasn't a question.

It took a moment before Yong Soo responded.

_ Shit, sorry. It's just early, you know Matt?_

_ Yeah, I'm sorry for snapping._

_ Don't worry about it. Anyway, you still having that nightmare? No offence, but these things must be depriving you of your beauty sleep Matt, you're starting to look like a zombie._

_ Yes, I am still having them having them. And I know I look like I'm about to keel over. Thanks for pointing that out._

_ Oh, you're very welcome, darling. :)_

* * *

Looking back, it was always the same thing. Matthew bolting through an alleyway, his panting raspy in his throat, the sound of his shoes smacking against the filthy pavement reverberating off the walls, letting what was pursuing him know _exactly where he was_.

H_e_ c_oul_d fe_el_ it, te_a_sing h_im_, co_min_g s_o_ cl_os_e t_o_ hi_s_ tu_rne_d b_ac_k _h_e sw_ears_ h_e_ _feels _it_'s_ _cl_aws _c_at_ch_ing h_i_s s_hir_t, f_ee_ls it_'s_ h_ot_ br_eat_h mi_sti_ng o_n_ h_i_s n_ec_k. Wh_en _h_e_ ch_anc_es a _loo_k o_ve_r h_i_s s_houl_der no_th_ing's th_ere_, j_us_t fa_int_ _la_u_gh_ter _rin_gi_ng _i_n_ h_is_ e_ar_s, _a_nd_ keep running, Mattie, you have to keep moving, I'm still here, o_h_ g_od_ i_t'_s _st_ill h_er_e._

_ M_a_tthe_w _b_ur_st_s o_u_t o_f_ t_he_ a_lle_ys a_nd_ _in_to t_h_e s_afe_ty o_f_ t_he_ w_el_l-_li_t _stre_ets. _H_e ru_ns_ _t_o a_n_d l_ean_s ag_ain_st _a_ la_mp_post t_o _ca_tc_h hi_s_ br_ea_th, u_nd_er t_h_e p_rote_cti_on_ o_f _t_h_e inc_andes_cent li_gh_t bu_lb_s. T_ea_rs o_f_ exh_aust_ion _an_d fe_ar_ bl_ur_ _hi_s ey_es_, _an_d _h_e g_ul_ps _do_wn a_ir _a_nd _sa_li_va an_d_ _ter_ror, _be_ca_u_se yo_u_'re s_afe_ _no_w, _yo_u're _und_er t_he_ li_gh_t, an_d _t_he_y d_on'_t _ev_er c_om_e _o_u_t_ o_f _th_e_ s_had_ows.

A_nd _t_h_e s_a_d t_hin_g i_s_,

_ Matthew's wrong._

S_omethi_ng la_unch_es it_self _a_t_ _hi_m, sp_ring_ing fr_om_ th_e_ g_ap_i_ng_ _dar_k mo_ut_h o_f_ t_h_e al_leyw_ay _an_d i_nt_o h_is_ b_ack_ a_t_ t_he_ s_am_e ti_m_e _th_e li_gh_t fli_cke_rs _an_d t_he_ b_ul_b s_hatt_ers _i_n _it_'s c_asin_g _wit_h _a_ tin_kle_ o_f_ _gla_ss.

M_atth_ew i_s_ fl_un_g ag_ain_st t_h_e co_ncret_e _wit_h _a _s_crea_m _o_f a_lar_m, h_is_ c_hin_ c_ollid_ing _w_it_h_ i_t p_ain_ful_ly a_nd_ ra_ttl_ing h_is_ _te_eth, _lu_ck_il_y _n_ot bi_tin_g h_is_ t_on_gue.

T_he_re ar_e _ha_nd_s c_lawin_g _a_t h_im_, s_har_p an_d_ _t_e_ari_n_g_, rip_pin_g a_t_ s_ki_n an_d_ _fab_ric, m_ali_cio_us_ i_n_ t_hei_r de_sir_e f_or_ pa_in_, _fee_l i_t_, h_at_e i_t_, r_eve_l i_n_ _it_, f_o_r i_t_ i_s_ _th_e la_st_ t_hin_g y_o_u w_ill _e_v_er_ fe_el. Ma_tth_ew t_ri_es t_o_ c_url_ i_nt_o a de_fens_ive b_al_l b_ut_ t_h_e th_ing_ r_oll_s h_im_ _ov_er.

T_hey_ _ri_p th_rou_gh h_im_, cl_utch_ing a_t _so_me_pla_ce_ d_eep_ _wit_hin _hi_m th_at_ _h_e di_dn't kn_ow exis_ted_, sm_othe_ring so_meth_ing _impo_rtant, s_ometh_ing m_or_e _lumi_nous t_h_a_n_ t_h_e l_igh_ts h_e_ _ca_n se_e _flic_ker_ing _alo_ng t_he_ _stre_et, b_righ_t a_s_ _on_e o_f_ th_e_ _sta_rs ab_ove_ _hi_m.

L_ik_e _w_et le_aves_ _on_ a h_o_t c_oa_l, t_he_ b_rig_ht _something _sta_rt_s t_o _s_putt_er a_nd _f_ad_e a_t_ _th_e s_am_e t_im_e _a_ h_an_d w_it_h ta_lon_s w_ra_ps ar_oun_d _Matt_hew's _ne_ck, cu_tti_ng _of_f fre_sh_ ai_r_ f_rom_ h_is_ l_un_gs. T_h_e o_xyge_n q_uick_ly tu_rns_ t_oxi_c, bu_rn_ing _in_ hi_s _c_hes_t. _H_is m_ou_th _ope_ns i_n_ _a_ par_od_y _o_f _a_ g_as_p w_hil_e _hi_s fin_ger_s scr_abb_le a_nd_ s_cra_tch a_t _t_he_ _ha_nd obst_ructi_ng _hi_s a_ir_w_ay_.

'I can't breathe!' Matthew tries to scream, his sight beginning to blacken at the edges, burning away like a piece of paper to a flame. 'PLEASE! Stop! What is wrong with you! Can't you see! I can't breathe! I can't breathe! I CAN'T BREATHE!'

_ Eyes, an unnatural hue of cobalt, snap open and the hand, it's nails digging into his neck, release. Before Matthew has the chance to try and crawl away, the same palm grabs his wrists and pins him in place. It's not finished with him yet. _

_ "I told you to keep running, Mattie. Why is it that whenever we meet you never seem to listen to me?"_

_ The voice has an edge of humor to it, as if Matthew is listening to an inside joke he doesn't get, and the voice knows it. Matthew, however, is busy once again heaving for air below this being to really care._

_ When Matthew recovers, he chances a glance at the one still staring above him but his gaze is held when it catches the eyes before him._

_ 'They glow'_ _is what sticks to the forefront of his mind, like embers, scalding with the amount of _hate _seething inside them. No _human's _eyes glow. No _human's _eyes are splintered at the pupils._

_ However, they are unlike a cat's in the fact that they seem to be generating a light of their own, not merely reflecting it. There is no light around them _to_ reflect anymore, the streetlights have died, the stars hidden by clouds – when did that happen? Matthew thinks - the only thing he can see is the implication of a sharp-toothed grin and those unearthly eyes above him, the rest of this person's (he's sure it's a person, not human but _humanoid_, can feel it in the legs straddling his waist, the strong hand gripping his wrists. Not the monster his imagination spawned, or at least he hopes not) features obscured._

_ The eyes narrow slightly. The grin disappears._

_ "Why do you never listen? Then and now?"_

_ Matthew doesn't respond, struck dumb with fear and slight awe._

_ "You have no idea what I'm talking about do you?"_

_ He feels anger in the voice, yet not entirely directed at… him? Someone else as well._

_ The one on top of him snorts inelegantly, and he-_

_ He – It's undeniable that the one on him is male, the voice rumbling and dark as the world surrounding them – clenches his other hand and it_ hurtshurtshurts_stopit aware that that hand is still strangling a part of him, that precious, shimmering part of him._

_ Matthew squeaks out a reply in hopes of ending the _painagony_torture_.

_ "No!" His voice, though strained and quietly screamed, sounds meek and afraid even to Matthew's ears._

_ The hand relaxes but does not let go._

_ "Very clever of them. Thinking they have robbed me of you this way."_

_ Enraged, fuming, barely restrained fury coming off it in waves._

_ It grins again, the expression nearly splitting its face._

_ "But don't think I have forgotten about you, _Matthew_._

_ "I've finally found you._

_ "And I'm never letting you go."_

_ That grip tightens and twists, tears and comes free and clutches its prize and Matthew screams-_

Matthew snaps out of his reverie with a cry still echoing from lips, jolting in his chair, something cracking behind his eyes.

Subsequently, the abrupt lurch tilts the chair, the wheels sliding forward and dropping it, and Matthew, to the floor with a slam that rattles the room.

"Shit!" The peeved and slightly pained curse disrupts the cloud of fear enveloping the room.

Slowly rising and rubbing a throbbing elbow that banged the floor, Matthew irritably grabs the chair and sets it right.

His phone is chiming that he has a new message on his desk. Yong Soo still texting him no doubt.

_ You still there?_

Matthew waits until the shivers that rack his body stop before answering.

It takes a while.

_ Yeah, just daydreaming. Sorry._

_ Hey, I was going to ask, do you want to do an early morning coffee run?_

_ Sure. Where?_

_ The usual haunt, The Tip. Crappy and cheap sludge to drink, but the waitress is hot. Plus, the oatmeal cookies are amazing._

_ Okay I'll see you at-_

Matthew takes a quick look at the clock.

_ Six._

_ See you then, Matt._

Dropping the phone on the desk, Matthew rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms.

That had never happened before.

Those events had never transpired before.

He had never glimpsed the one chasing him before.

It had never spoken to him before.

The dream ended after him asphyxiating and choking and suffocating.

_ Dying._

_ '… What the hell is happening to me?'_

* * *

Pardon me while I refuse to acknowledge this huge monumental piece of poo.

Oh and the random italics during the chase scene is to show that Mattie is slowly sinking into the changed dream/vision thingy? Yeah. I'm so clever.

Oh and just so you guys know, this is going to be AmeCan. c:


	2. Interlude

Wow! I'm so happy that this is so well received!

Anyways, here, have a proto-in-between-interlude-thing chapter!

* * *

"_I think you remember everything… you just can't bring it to mind all the time." _

- Edward Albee, _Three Tall Women_

Interlude

A soul flickers.

Old memories drift to the surface.

Blue eyes.

Black wings

_Mat...hew…!_

_Mat… ie!_

A head shakes.

_I …an't …lfred._

_I'm …orry._

Desperation kicks in.

_Matt… if … find you … never …ee you again._

…_ome with …e._

_If …ou do …othing, they'll kill …_

…

…_._

…_lease._

A sigh.

…'_m done …alking about …is, Al…ed._

_I'll ...oss that bridge …en it co…s._

_I sha… …ake my punishment,_

_Willingly._

A back turns.

Footsteps grow more distant.

…_Come …ack!_

…_atthew!_

_Listen to me! _

The memory sinks to the depths again.

* * *

So would anyone care to take a guess at what the Hell is going on?


	3. Chapter 2

Hello!

So you may have noticed that Yong Soo is missing his iconic _Da ze! _

Well, it is a particular head canon of mine that he only really says it when excited/experiencing intense emotions, not after every sentence.

He did when he was a kid, but he's grown out of it a bit.

He's old. And I'm old. So I write him as a composed and mature adult, just like me.

_Who the Hell am I kidding?_

Enjoy!

* * *

_"Rumors are like ripples in a cornfield. They are ephemeral, but they do indicate which way the wind is blowing."_

_- _Susan J. Palmer, _Aliens Adored_

Chapter 2:

Rumors and Premonitions

"Matt."

_"Matt."_

"Control to Williams. Williams, please respond."

_Smack!_

"MATT."

Matthew jerks, putting a hand to his forehead. Shooting a glare at a grinning Yong Soo across the table, he rubs the small red mark on his brow.

"Did you seriously just flick me?"

"Yep," Yong Soo answers calmly, frowning. "You were staring into space._ Again._I told you the last time we were out, Matt. If you gave me the Hundred Yard Stare again while in the middle of a conversation I would have to take drastic measures."

Matthew looks down, blushing. "Sorry."

"Your Canadian is showing, Matt," Yong Soo perks up smiling once more. "don't apologize, okay? Anyway, as I was saying, my favorite Cloudcuckoolander, you _just _missed the greatest pair of tits I have ever seen."

Matthew raises a brow, grins. "Don't let Natalya catch you saying that, Yong Soo." He whispers as his voice drops to a conspiratory tone. "She'll gut you with that knife I hear she carries around."

"Oh don't worry for my sake just yet. If you were actually paying attention awhile back you would know I wasn't talking about her." Yong Soo leers then nods his head towards the counter. Matthew turns slightly to look.

Platinum blonde.

Bright, blue eyes.

Pale in complexion, yet not sickly.

Ample chest.

Humming a soft tune to herself.

'_Wow.' _The Canadian feels his cheeks heat up, staring.

"I know, right?" Yong Soo responds, nodding understandingly. Matthew shocks slightly and looks away; not realizing he spoke aloud, while Yong Soo gives him a knowing quirk of the lips. "Her name's Kat. She's the new waitress here. Pretty cute, huh?"

"How do you know her name's Kat?" Matthew turns back to the brunet, blush faded, giving him an inquisitive look.

"It says on her nametag, doofus." Yong Soo rolls his eyes in a melodramatic manner, teasing.

"Oh."

"Anyways, nice breasts and hot chicks aside, how are you?" Yong Soo says while twirling that one errant curl around his finger nonchalantly.

Matthew feels his chest heave with a sigh. "How do I look?"

"Half dead, but I wasn't going to say anything unless you asked." Yong Soo beamed.

The blond huffs a laugh. "I feel half dead."

Yong Soo hums. "Have you tried taking something for your insomnia?"

"It not so much insomnia as much as it is me waking up in the middle of the night due to dreams. But yeah. I have tried Melatonin* but it's a bit too strong yet not strong enough? I just sort of prolong the inevitable. I wake up, eventually, but I stay dreaming awhile longer than normal? You get the point." Matthew shrugs.

"Sure." Yong Soo leans back in his chair, losing focus.

A lull descends upon the conversation.

"Except…" Matthew recalls _that._

"Except?" Yong Soo snaps back to attention, pushes.

"I'm was wondering when these dreams will end… But…"

"But?" More encouragement.

Matthew buries his face in his hands. "How do I explain this without sounding crazy?" He takes a deep breath, puts his arms on the table, and continues. "Last night. This morning. Whatever. The dream changed. It was… different this time. Yet I wasn't exactly dreaming. I was thinking about it, just remembering, running it over in my head, and then… I don't know, I was pulled back into it? The beginning and end was the same, you know the whole…"

Yong Soo nods, saying nothing.

"Well, instead of waking up it continued. And instead of being all muddled and confused like it always is, it was _clear. _Like I was _there. _And that thing_ talked._ The thing that was chasing me, that choked me. It spoke to me. Like it knew me. And it ripped out… something important. And _then_ I woke up._" _Matthew shivers, finished. He turns to Yong Soo who has a considering look on his face.

"Interesting." He says finally.

"That's all you have to say? Interesting?" The blond says flatly, giving him an incredulous expression.

"Well, I don't really know what else to say, haha." Yong Soo replies, a sheepish smile glancing his features.

"Whatever," Matthew folds his arms over his chest. "it just scared the crap out of me." Not being petulant. Nope. His face softens. "Anyway, I've also been having these _feelings_."

"What kind?" The Korean indulges him.

"Like… Um… Dammit. What's a good metaphor…?" Matthew stops to think for a second; Yong Soo just looks on, amused. "You know that feeling you get when you are leaning back in a chair so you are just on two legs, and then you lean too far and almost fall over, but at the very last second you catch yourself? It's like that. I'm just barely balanced, wobbling precariously and under me is... It just is. And I don't know what_ it_ is but it's something _big_. And then I start to unknowingly fall. And I get that tight, surprised sensation in my chest, the one you get when you just realize you're starting to plummet.

"But it's different, instead of like the realization of 'Oh. I'm falling.', it's like I'm about to… _realize that something, what it is, _but then I'm jerked back into proper place at the last moment? Yet I wasn't the one who caught myself? I can't explain it all that well…it's just…" Matthew tries to express the feeling with his hands, fails, just ends up waving them in a confusing pattern. "_Weird_. Surreal." Matthew pauses, aware now of his friend's sudden frown, a deep crease between his eyebrows. Of the quiet from the opposite side of the table, and how rare that is. "Yong Soo?"

Yong Soo's ever-present smile shifts back unto his face just as suddenly. "O-oh yeah? You don't say? That's really bizarre, Matt, even by my standards, da ze."

The thing about Yong Soo is that he thinks he is a good liar. He really isn't. His emotions play up in his voice and in his face too much. It is also in the speed in which he speaks. Right now, Yong Soo was talking really fast, like he's nervous, or excited, Matthew can't quite tell. And, that little verbal tic he has can tell one when he is feeling strong emotions as well.

Yong Soo was hiding something from Matthew.

"Yong Soo, what's-" Matthew begins.

"H-here's your coffee!" A shy voice speaks up.

Matthew turns and sees Kat with a tray and two tall mugs atop it, standing with a timid curve to her lips. She places the drinks and two large oatmeal cookies in front of the boys.

"Oh, thank you! Hey are you new here? I've never seen you working here before. It's Kat, right?" Yong Soo jumps on the opportunity to change the subject. Very conspicuously at that. Matthew gives him a look that promises he will talk to him about it later.

Kat blushes harder, clutching at the black apron she's wearing. "A-ah, yes! But how-"

"Nametag." Matthew points out, taking a sip of his coffee. Pulling back with a grimace, he puts three sugars in it.

"Oh. Right. I forgot I had this." Kat looks down at the nametag on the front of her apron. "But my full name is Yekaterina. I-It wouldn't fit on the tag, my friends call me Kat or Katyusha, though."

"Yekaterina… Is that Russian?" Yong Soo asks.

"Yes, it's very common surname in the Slavic countries. I am here from Ukraine. I'm helping my sister, Natalya, with the café and other… matters, Mister…"

"Oh! Manners! I'm Yong Soo. And the quiet guy beside me is Matthew. It's nice to meet you Katyusha." Yong Soo introduces them. He looks to Matt. "Say hello, Matthew."

"Hi." Matthew greets, automatic.

A conniving grin spreads on Yong Soo's face. "He doesn't want to talk much because he likes yo- ouch! That hurt Matt!" The brunet rubs the shoulder Matthew punched.

"Good." Matthew replies. Yong Soo gives him a sad, wounded expression, rubbing his arm slowly. "Oh, come on. It didn't hurt that bad, you wimp."

Katyusha laughs lightly. "It's okay. Don't fight. I like you too, Matthew." Matthew looks up, hopeful. "I think you would make a good friend." Katyusha smiles softly, unaware what Yong Soo meant by 'like'.

Matthew deflates like a balloon that has been let go. With a prompt, sustained 'plllllllftt' that finishes with a pathetic squeak at the end. Yong Soo notices his disappointed expression and suppresses a laugh.

"Sure, that would be nice. Being friends." Matthew answers.

Yong Soo speaks to Katyusha again. "So... It must be different, huh? Ukraine compared to Canada, I mean. The people and the weather must be very different."

Katyusha blinks. "Ah, no. The climate is actually very similar to Canada's; spring comes a bit earlier, however. And the people are similar as well. Very polite. Very nice."

Yong Soo makes a face. "I wouldn't trust parts of downtown Vancouver too much during some times of the night." He shrugs. "A sweet lady like yourself may get mixed up in some nasty business."

"I can handle myself, thank you for your concern." Katyusha seems to be trying to paste a polite smile on her face. Matthew watches Yong Soo and Kat closely, feeling a sort of tension he can't put his finger on.

"You never know, there are some pretty shady guys out there, if it comes down to it, you might want to think about saving your own skin before someone else." Yong Soo states.

Katyusha gives him a _look._ "What makes you say that?"

The brunet folds his hands together and places his chin on them. "Haven't you heard of the recent string of murders?"

"Can't say I have, no." Katyusha replies, looking mildly interested, yet trying not to.

"Wouldn't surprise me. It's not on the news, _yet. _The police are keeping very hush hush about it." The Korean man grins in a sneaky way.

"For God's sake, Yong Soo, this had better not be another one of your crackpot conspiracy theories. _The police are withholding information! They're hiding something! A secret plan to unethically clean up the streets!"_ Matthew mimics his voice.

"It's not! Not this time at least…" Yong Soo chooses to ignore Matthew's snort of slight laughter. "Anyway, all of them are occurring in alleys, in the more crooked sections of the city. Probably to pin the blame on, say, a drug deal gone wrong or someone who got frustrated with a particularly stubborn *ahem* _escort._" Yong Soo uses the euphemism mildly.

"But that isn't the strange bit. All of the victims are blondes and the killings themselves are unnecessarily brutal. They looked like they were torn apart by a rabid animal. Disfigured beyond recognition. The police have had to use _dental records _to identify the bodies." Yong Soo shudders.

"How exactly do you all know this?" Matthew questions with a disturbed countenance, a troubled furrow between his eyes.

Katyusha went very quiet.

"You have to know and ask the right people… With incentive, of course." Yong Soo jingles some coins in his pocket, their cheerful clinking out of place in the somber mood.

"Why interest in the murders though? Why does it concern you?" Matthew is still skeptical, half-heartedly interrogating the dark haired man in front of him.

"Call it a hunch, a personal fascination of sorts. Anyway," Yong Soo stands, shifting inside his coat pocket, and pulling out a handful of money. "I have to get going. Boss will be pissed if I'm late for work again." He puts the cash on the table, smiles softly. "For the bill. On me."

"What about your coffee?" Matthew gestures to the black drink sitting neglected, unfinished.

"Ah, I'm fine. This, however," Yong Soo snatches up the oatmeal cookie, taking a bite. "I'll take with me."

"Okay, I'll talk to you later. Take care, alright? Don't do anything too stupid without me." Matthew tries to lighten the mood.

"Always." Yong Soo grins brightly. He turns to Katyusha. "Pleasure meeting you, Kat."

Katyusha snaps out of whatever had her thinking so hard. "Oh! Yes, nice meeting you too!" She chirps, waving.

"We'll have to have coffee here more often since such a pretty girl is here, eh Matt?" Yong Soo smirks.

"Get lost, creeper." Matthew pretends to throw a paper coaster at him, Katyusha blushing hard beside him.

"Okay! Okay! I'll go!" Yong Soo's laughter echoes from out the door as he leaves.

"He's…" Katyusha begins, "Quite the character."

"That's one way of putting it." Replies Matthew, nursing his coffee still.

"I'll leave you to your drink then, Matthew." Katyusha says, nodding her head once.

"Thanks."

Matthew leans back in his chair, taking it to two legs, closes his eyes.

'_A murderer, huh? Targeting blondes, and in alleyways, no less. If that doesn't particularly hit home I don't know what does. Too much of a coincidence to be _just_ a coincidence.' _Matthew tilts the chair back a bit further.

'_Whom did Yong Soo get information from?' _

Gravity ensues. The chair begins to fall.

Matthew catches himself.

* * *

*Drug that is usually used as a sleeping aid.

Whew! This chapter took forever to get out! Thank you for the patience!

I'm not particularly happy with how it turned out but… It works!

In other news: I GRADUATED! I am going to be set loose upon the world! Tremble in fear!

Also, I am setting up a soundtrack for Icarus on my tumblr account. I will post a link if you guys are interested! So far I have the Opening Theme, Main Theme and the song I was listening to while writing the interlude up!

Cheers!


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